Handsome Is as Handsome Does

When you’re six, the world can be a big, scary, incomprehensible place. I often watch my own six-year-old as he tries to navigate the world around him, torn between his desire to be a “big boy” and his fear of change. Also, since he has a few difficult character traits that don’t necessarily endear him to others—just ask his sisters—his path is often thornier than not. So I tend to want to hold him to me and shield him with a fierce sense of compassion. That is, until the moment when I’m caught off guard by an act of utter audacity and, for lack of a better word, cockiness.

We recently took our son for a doctor’s appointment. I normally let my children meander through their morning routines and get dressed at a relaxed pace. This morning, however, my son slept in and I needed to move things along for our mid-morning appointment. 

“Go get dressed,” I said as I handed him his clothes. I surveyed his hair, which was in need of a cut and standing on end, making him look like a shocked porcupine. I added, “Then I’ll help you with your hair.”

“I can do it,” he said, grabbing the brush and detangler on his way by. “You can’t wait to see me all handsome.”

He doesn't like crowds, but he's a born ladies' man.

To do him justice, he did a good job on his hair, and we were out the door in record time. The local clinic where we had an appointment serves as a learning clinic where medical students can experience a rural rotation during their studies. So, it wasn’t surprising when a med student got first crack at us before we saw the doctor. I dare say, though, she may not have been expecting us.

She managed to remain polite and professional through most of our oddities—a whole family of five attending an appointment AND homeschoolers. Egad! —but then she said she would go in a moment and get the doctor.

“Is the doctor a boy?” asked my son.

“Yes, he is,” she replied, then made a logical assumption. “Would you be more comfortable with a boy?”

“No,” he replied nonchalantly. “I’d like another beautiful girl like you.”

Our previously poised med student became flustered like a high school girl who had just caught the notice of the starting quarterback. She eventually regained her composure, and before leaving to get the doctor, turned at the door to ask if we had any questions. As we shook our heads, our son got in one last shot.

“Bring another beautiful girl!”